The Long and Winding Road

One wandering Jew comes home.

"I always thought that I would learn more about Judaism when I had children, but," the young mother told me with a pained shoulder-shrug, "my husband isn't Jewish. My kids are not going to learn about being Jewish in our home."

If an outside observer would have witnessed this conversation that took place in Baltimore last month between my parents' new neighbor and me, the wife of an Orthodox rabbi, he would have thought that this woman and I have nothing in common.

But I know the truth. I know that up until quite recently, this woman was my Ghost of Chanukah Future. I know that if my life had not taken a 180 degree turn 15 years ago, I would have been the intermarried mother clinging by her fingertips to the crumbling edge of the cliff, assimilation littered with the remains of hundreds of thousands of American Jews lying half-a-mile straight down.

IS THAT A GERMAN NAME?

In 1991, I was a student at Bowdoin College, a small college in Maine with a Jewish student organization so small that the only activities it sponsored were High Holiday services, and a weekly Shabbat candle lighting ceremony that I attended two or three times until I tired of sitting in a classroom by myself with a pair of candlesticks while I waited for somebody else to show up.

My years at Bowdoin were jam-packed, spent in a never-ending mad dash from classes to track-and-field practice to orchestra to chamber choir to the college library and finally to bed in the small hours of the morning.

Looking back, I understand that all this rushing around was not a reflection of my enthusiasm for the legendary "Bowdoin experience," but rather of my desperate search for something to fill up the emptiness that I felt during those years. The meaninglessness and lack of connection that I felt at Bowdoin ached, the emotional version of the phantom pain of an amputee.

As my junior year abroad grew closer, I had high hopes that the sense of meaning that I was seeking was lying in wait in foreign lands.

I kicked off my junior year abroad by volunteering at a Soviet Pioneer summer camp outside of Moscow. My first day there, the camp director asked me about my last name. "What kind of name is Freedman, is that German?"

"No, it's a Jewish name."

She nodded with a blank expression.

That summer, as the only American that the young campers had ever seen, I learned what it must feel like to be a movie star hounded by paparazzi. Everywhere I went around the camp, children pointed and screamed, "Look, the American!"

That summer I learned what it means to spend time in a country that is profoundly anti-Semitic.

At the same time, I learned that summer what it means to spend time in a country that is profoundly anti-Semitic. Even though I had not told anyone I was Jewish aside from the camp director, word about my background spread around the staff like wildfire.

At one point, a coworker invited me to her room for tea. In the middle of a conversation about camp life, she got up, shut the door to her room, and said in a hushed voice, "My mother's maiden name was Gross," and then she re-opened the door, and went back to speaking about the upcoming swimming tournament.

Another time, the camp's musical director invited me to her room to meet her friend, Seryozha. The next day, she told me in a whisper, "Seryozha is your relative," as though we shared a deep, dark, and terrible secret.

Halfway through the summer, two new male counselors arrived who were born-again Christians. They wore large crosses around their necks, had long hair, and rumor had it that they would soon start training to become Russian Orthodox monks.

One night, when I joined some counselors who were sitting in a room smoking and drinking tea and vodka, one of the Christians starting asking me questions.

"Are you a Protestant?"

No.

"Are you a Catholic?"

No.

"Then what are you?"

Embarrassed, I confessed, "I'm Jewish."

"Jewish? Judaism?" he said with a mixture of incomprehension and disgust. "Do you mean to tell me that you don't accept Jesus as your savior? Do you know that the blood of the Lord is on your hands? Do you know that you will go to Hell for this?"

At that moment, the world stood still -- the cigarette smoke, the darkened room, and the uncomfortable eyes of every single counselor either on me or on the floor.

"But, it's true," he finally continued with a bitter edge to his voice, "the Jews are the Chosen people. Out of all the nations in the world, the Jews were the first to realize that there is one God." And with that, he gave me one last look of deep resentment, and got up to pour himself another cup of tea.

At that point, someone started complaining about the camp director, and before I knew it, everyone had relaxed. Before I knew it, I was forgotten.

Although, I, of course, had not forgotten.

INDONESIAN CHARM

A month later, I was traveling to spend my fall semester as a participant in a study-abroad program in Indonesia. While most of the program participants spent their free time shopping and beach hopping, I was interested, above all else, in spending every free moment with the Muslim students from the nearby university, the first deeply religious people I had ever met.

The Indonesian students I met were extremely charming and friendly. I would spend my evenings with them, joking around and talking about their studies or the beauty of Islam.

At the same time, though, once again, I learned what it means to live in a deeply anti-Semitic country.

On several occasions, the students mentioned in passing that Jews controlled the American government and media like master puppeteers. If I would protest, they would shake their heads at my naivete.

But most prevalent, were the constant attacks against Israel. Before long, I was actually surprised when I managed to get through a whole day without hearing comments that implied that the Zionist Entity was the most evil country that had ever existed.

What did Israel -- that war-ridden Middle Eastern country that had caused me nothing but embarrassment -- have to do with me anyway?

But this anti-Israel sentiment did not bother me so much. I was apologetic and obsequious when it came to the Jewish State. I had never even been to Israel, and what did that war-ridden Middle Eastern country that had caused me nothing but embarrassment have to do with me anyway?

Despite the anti-Semitic atmosphere, my experience in Indonesia had been overwhelmingly positive. I loved the Indonesian students' idealism, sense of humor, warmth, and spirituality.

My last night in Indonesia, however, I had an encounter that made me rethink my impressions. As I was packing my bags, one of my new friends stopped by. "I have come to speak with you, because I want you to understand something." She skipped all niceties, and got straight to the point. "Everybody here is very nice to you. But the truth is that in our hearts, we all hate Jews as deeply as it is possible to hate anyone."

Even though her attack shouldn't have surprised me, it did. Up until that point, I had heard the Indonesian students express hostility towards Jews and Israel constantly, but I had felt a nearly total division between "the Jews" and me. It was too bad that they hated Jews, but that didn't mean that they hated me! What did I ever do to them?

And then, out of the blue, my new friend stopped short. "But, nobody can deny," she said, as her face contorted as though she had bitten into a lemon, "that the Jews are the Chosen people, because you were the first nation to recognize that there is one God." And with that, she left, closing the door firmly behind her.

The next morning, a few of my Indonesian friends showed up at the bus station to send me off. The student who had visited me the night before gave me a big hug, as though everything was forgotten.

But I, of course, had not forgotten.

ROSH HASHANA IN ISRAEL

A few days later I was back home in Baltimore. I was supposed to leave two weeks later to study in Moscow for the coming semester, but my mother suggested that the situation in Russia was unstable and possibly dangerous.

It occurred to me that if I could not travel to Russia, at least I could travel to Israel to volunteer with Russian immigrants. I also realized that, ironically, the volcanic fury that the Indonesian students felt towards Israel had made me curious. Their hatred had made me want to check out what the big deal was all about.

Soon after I arrived in Israel, my housing arrangements fell through, and I decided to move into a women's yeshiva that had offered me free housing. For the first time in my life, I felt the thrill and satisfaction of studying Judaism, in a community of young idealistic Jewish women who were also in hot pursuit of a meaningful life.

I was moved so deeply that I locked myself in the bathroom, and could not stop crying.

The first Shabbat I spent with a religious family, as I saw the mother surrounded by her children and husband, their home filled with singing and the warmth of the primordial light of Shabbat, I was moved so deeply that I locked myself in the bathroom, and could not stop crying.

And how could I not be moved to tears, to realize that the phantom pain that had ached for so many years was finally gone? How could I not be moved to my core to realize that I was a wandering Jew who had finally come home?

After several months of study, when the rabbi at my yeshiva was finishing up a class on Rosh Hashana, he looked at us with a sudden smile, as though he had just thought of something that had made him very happy.

He said, "This Rosh Hashana when you hear the shofar, remember that you are the daughters of Abraham, members of the first nation in the history of humanity to recognize that there is one God. This is the reason why people of all faiths from all over the world still call us the Chosen People"

"And ladies," he said, as he closed the book lying in front of him and looking straight at me, "don't you ever forget it."

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About the Author

Chana Jenny Weisberg is the author of One Baby Step at a Time: 7 Secrets of Jewish Motherhood (Urim) as well as the creator of the popular Jewish Mom Video Series that can be viewed on her website www.JewishMom.com.

Visitor Comments: 24

(24)
shlomo,
October 2, 2008 12:41 AM

'they' won't let us forget

i have experienced this cold irrational hatred of the Jews as well. I grew up in the 80s in communist poland. even my close friends when they found out i was jewish, have started treating me differently.
the x-ian and muslim religious leaders consider it their moral obligation to teach hatred to the jews, even though they have taken huge portion of the bible as their own. they only want us to accept their version, no matter that they profess that we all believe in one G-od!

(23)
Helen,
October 18, 2006 3:25 PM

Ditto on the amazing.

I'm so glad you wrote this to share with everyone.

(22)
Dena,
October 9, 2006 3:59 AM

amazing!

All words would take away, the lessons one can learn from enemies are sometimes greater than what we learn from friends and family.

(21)
MimiC.,
September 24, 2006 9:52 PM

Wondering? Wandering?

I cried when I read about your experience of Shabbat & how you cried & cried in the bathroom. I have felt an inexplicable homesickness for Judaism & Jewish culture for over 20 years though I was not raised in a Jewish home. Possibly on my Lithuanian side? or German? I don't know. I can't "prove" any Jewish background & therefore feel somewhat illegitimate when I think of trying to connect w/others. But your story has hit a nerve inside of me & stirred the longing I fell...again.

(20)
Anonymous,
September 24, 2006 8:40 AM

I am glad you found your way home!

I know it sounds strange, but this article you have written seem exactly what I needed this morning. It is not comfortable coming in contact with those who hate, or dislike us (me/us) for no good reason, and even worse to have to deal with these people every day. I could feel your discomfort, surprise, shock, and I felt your joy when you found yourself at home, where you were free to be "yourself." Thanks for sharing.

(19)
babucarr,
September 22, 2006 1:24 AM

I think all poeple are children of the ALMIGHTYGOD

As i read your paper, am happy for you that you found your roots and i feel for you the way you are recievedin all these places,however be the preson jew christian or muslim we are all of the ALMIGHTY GOD.

(18)
Moshe,
September 21, 2006 4:33 PM

I Can Relate

Our stories are vastly different. The 1 commonality is that we both cried when we realized we came home. I can relate. One feels like they have filled a giant void in their lives in an instant. The gnawing you felt for years that you couldn't explain is gone. All of a sudden you know what you are. What you have possibly denied, now becomes crystal clear.

(17)
JerryWeiner,
September 19, 2006 11:20 AM

Raised in a totally Christian neighborhood

As a child, my father owned a spoting goods store in a totally nonjewish area of Chicago. I, therefore had only nojewish friends. Looking back, after reading others comments, I can only say that at no time was I ever picked on or confronted with the fact that I was Jewish. In fatc, the only time I had a problem was with another Jewis boy and it was my nonjewish friends who defended me. I was Bar Mitzvahed, and eventually left my old neighborhood, and today most of my friends are Jewish....but I still remember my nonjewish friends from long ago...and thank them for being "friends"!

(16)
EleanorWright,
September 19, 2006 9:11 AM

Wonderful

I enjoyed your journey. Yes it is a wonderful feeling to finalize realize your destiny. Be proud of your heritage.

(15)
Anna,
September 18, 2006 11:38 AM

Mixed Feelings

After reading this article, I was left with mixed feelings. On the one hand, it is very much like my own story - I came a long way from being ashamed of my identity, to being a proud Jew with a strong faith in Ha Shem. It was (and still is, the process is never over) truly enlightening. However, I really don't know how to react to the first example the author chose to give - the woman who married a non-Jew. Why did she postpone studying about Judaism until she had children? Why can't she still learn more if her husband isn't Jewish? Does it mean her learning would have less value? Her children are still Jews, and it is her responsibility to teach them about her faith. It also depends on the dominant culture in the surroundings. For example, I live in Israel where the dominant culture is Jewish, so even children of intermarried couples can be successfully raised as Jews. And I think there's a big difference between a person who has absolutely no connection with Judaism, and a person who isn't a Jew by halacha, but has a Jewish father (the most common type of "intermarriage" here in Israel is this, I estimate). It really bothers me that people who intermarry (for various personal reasons) are seen as traitors.

(14)
Andy,
September 18, 2006 8:37 AM

fear may be a reason,disgust, // many ? raised here

Excellent article. For much of my life I was often not identifiable as a Jew outside of the Jewish community. While the existence of anti-Semitism in varying degrees is a fact I am disturbed that I witnessed at least as much prejudice based of misconceptions and plain ignorance by Jews against gentiles than the reverse. This has been my experience most particularly within the haredi community. The glaring difference is that while some ignorant Jews believe gentiles lack morals and values and look at them as lesser souls the intense hatred that leads some anti-Semites to wish physical harm including death to Jews solely for being Jews has in my opinion no equivilent within any Jewish community of which I am aware. The examples given acknowledging the Jews as a special/chosen people by "religious" Christians and Moslems is interesting. It seems to say that since we Jews who had the advantage of such a close relationship with God failed up to now to fulfill our role, then we deserve their scorn. That is different from the anti-Semites who desire to be hedonist pagans and resent the Jews for introducing morality.

(13)
Chava,
September 18, 2006 3:30 AM

Impossible to Understand this Hatred

When I hear a Jew express prejudice towards non-Jews, I say, "no, we are different and we don't have to talk the same way the anti-semites talk about us!" We are taught in the Torah that Hashem created all people in His Image, meaning that there is a spark of divinity within each human being.

It is very difficult, therefore, for myself, and many Jews that I know, to comprehend, to imagine, to understand, to even fathom this concept of people hating us just because we are Jewish,without knowing us at all. (Even though the Torah discusses that "Esav hates Yaakov." Hate is the mind-boggling antithesis of the Love with which Hashem created us, and with which He infused the world.Chana/Jenny's story is amazing.... seeing how Hashem led you home, seeing how you had to hear about your uniqueness from the mouths of the nations....Very very moving and inspiring. May we all be guided home in this New Year.

(12)
Alesandra,
September 18, 2006 1:05 AM

Seems as if...

They hate us and respect us at the same time...??!!Is their ambivalence based on jealousy as of the concept of the Chosen peole and thd their covenant...their entry to Ha Shem is via their Messiah and what if he is a false one??? Seems as if he only propagated hate against his own people... and what about the Italians having blood on their hands???

(11)
MaryJoFoster,
September 17, 2006 6:58 PM

I really liked the story. I love the Jewish people and study Torah every day.

(10)
Deena,
September 17, 2006 6:03 PM

Thank you

Jenny, it's great that you are writing all these articles. It's even greater that aish.com is publishing them. This article moved me to tears, yet again What an amazing story.

(9)
Sam,
September 17, 2006 5:55 PM

thank you

The part of this articlecalled Is that a German name?really explained everything I went thruogh at my fundamentalist Christisn school .All the damnation and This really helped me realize I'm not the only one facing this treatment.

(8)
ilana,
September 17, 2006 5:46 PM

I know exactly what you mean!

Having taught at schools in country Australia I realised after some time that the problem was not really that I was from a different place but that I was Jewish in a predominantly insular Christian environment. However the people were extremely narrow in their outlook on others who may belong to a deifferent faith or culture. I had a year 7 child wave a cross at me one day in class that she had coloured in with red biro to look like blood and as I passed she muttered "J** 's bllod. Look what you did to him!"I just told her patiently"Put the art effort away, XX and get on with your work!" I felt a cold chill but controlled my reactions because I could see the whole class expecting some sort of reaction from me. When i spoke to another staff member she looked at me strangely and said "don't go there!"I had wanted to incorporate the Shoah through a text into the lessons to give them some understanding of who Jewish people were.I said "What do you mean?" She then told me that some Christian ministers in the town were very anti semetic and it would only increase the flak. I was amazed after all this is the 21st century.

(7)
robertCarpenter,
September 17, 2006 4:52 PM

I havent been with you very long but I am beging to enjoy it. But I do have a little knowledge of Jewish history and would like to learn more.

(6)
InesRapaport,
September 17, 2006 4:14 PM

loved the story

as a jew who spent a year in Auschwitz I love to rear about judaism, now that with Gods help I liove in a free country withous any sign of antisemitism

(5)
Anonymous,
September 17, 2006 3:01 PM

WOW! What a story. Thanks for the inspiration!

(4)
Anonymous,
September 17, 2006 2:37 PM

It is amazing how we can miss recognizing who we are, but the rest of the world will not. Your article was very touching and real. I'm glad you made it home!

(3)
John,
September 17, 2006 2:20 PM

Beautiful story

I got goosebumps even more at the end.

I'm someone, wanting to convert. Beezrat HaShem I will, in a couple of years.

Here in the Netherlands, we have a lot of "Indonesians" and also numbers of "Russians". They only make me feel more comfortable with Judaism.. since they also show WHY I should choose Judaism.

Thank you so much for your story! What a blessing. If I may only note that the Children of Israel are not only CALLED the Chosen People they ARE the Chosen People... the only nation called by HaShem to be His own.

In case no one has already done so, please allow me to apologize on behalf of any Christian who has been hateful to you just because you are Jewish. There is (an unfortunately common) misunderstanding among some Christians that "the Jews killed Jesus". Many people only know what they are taught and have been taught this hate. I can only pray that these individuals will study the Scriptures and learn that the nation of Israel is HaShem's treasured people.

I live in rural Montana where the Cholov Yisrael milk is difficult to obtain and very expensive. So I drink regular milk. What is your view on this?

The Aish Rabbi Replies:

Jewish law requires that there be rabbinic supervision during the milking process to ensure that the milk comes from a kosher animal. In the United States, many people rely on the Department of Agriculture's regulations and controls as sufficiently stringent to fulfill the rabbinic requirement for supervision.

Most of the major Kashrut organizations in the United States rely on this as well. You will therefore find many kosher products in America certified with a 'D' next to the kosher symbol. Such products – unless otherwise specified on the label – are not Cholov Yisrael and are assumed kosher based on the DOA's guarantee.

There are many, however, do not rely on this, and will eat only dairy products that are designated as Cholov Yisrael (literally, "Jewish milk"). This is particularly true in large Jewish communities, where Cholov Yisrael is widely available.

Rabbi Moshe Feinstein wrote that under limited conditions, such as an institution which consumes a lot of milk and Cholov Yisrael is generally unavailable or especially expensive, American milk is acceptable, as the government supervision is adequate to prevent non-kosher ingredients from being added.

It should be added that the above only applies to milk itself, which is marketed as pure cow's milk. All other dairy products, such as cheeses and butter, may contain non-kosher ingredients and always require kosher certification. In addition, Rabbi Feinstein's ruling applies only in the United States, where government regulations are considered reliable. In other parts of the world, including Europe, Cholov Yisrael is a requirement.

There are additional esoteric reasons for being stringent regarding Cholov Yisrael, and because of this it is generally advisable to consume only Cholov Yisroel dairy foods.

In 1889, 800 Jews arrived in Buenos Aires, marking the birth of the modern Jewish community in Argentina. These immigrants were fleeing poverty and pogroms in Russia, and moved to Argentina because of its open door policy of immigration. By 1920, more than 150,000 Jews were living in Argentina. Juan Peron's rise to power in 1946 was an ominous sign, as he was a Nazi sympathizer with fascist leanings. Peron halted Jewish immigration to Argentina, introduced mandatory Catholic religious instruction in public schools, and allowed Argentina to become a haven for fleeing Nazis. (In 1960, Israeli agents abducted Adolf Eichmann from a Buenos Aires suburb.) Today, Argentina has the largest Jewish community in Latin America with 250,000, though terror attacks have prompted many young people to emigrate. In 1992, the Israeli Embassy in Buenos Aires was bombed, killing 32 people. In 1994, the Jewish community headquarters in Buenos Aires was bombed, killing 85 people. The perpetrators have never been apprehended.

Be aware of what situations and behaviors give you pleasure. When you feel excessively sad and cannot change your attitude, make a conscious effort to take some action that might alleviate your sadness.

If you anticipate feeling sad, prepare a list of things that might make you feel better. It could be talking to a specific enthusiastic individual, running, taking a walk in a quiet area, looking at pictures of family, listening to music, or reading inspiring words.

While our attitude is a major factor in sadness, lack of positive external situations and events play an important role in how we feel.

[If a criminal has been executed by hanging] his body may not remain suspended overnight ... because it is an insult to God (Deuteronomy 21:23).

Rashi explains that since man was created in the image of God, anything that disparages man is disparaging God as well.

Chilul Hashem, bringing disgrace to the Divine Name, is one of the greatest sins in the Torah. The opposite of chilul Hashem is kiddush Hashem, sanctifying the Divine Name. While this topic has several dimensions to it, there is a living kiddush Hashem which occurs when a Jew behaves in a manner that merits the respect and admiration of other people, who thereby respect the Torah of Israel.

What is chilul Hashem? One Talmudic author stated, "It is when I buy meat from the butcher and delay paying him" (Yoma 86a). To cause someone to say that a Torah scholar is anything less than scrupulous in meeting his obligations is to cause people to lose respect for the Torah.

Suppose someone offers us a business deal of questionable legality. Is the personal gain worth the possible dishonor that we bring not only upon ourselves, but on our nation? If our personal reputation is ours to handle in whatever way we please, shouldn't we handle the reputation of our nation and the God we represent with maximum care?

Jews have given so much, even their lives, for kiddush Hashem. Can we not forego a few dollars to avoid chilul Hashem?

Today I shall...

be scrupulous in all my transactions and relationships to avoid the possibility of bringing dishonor to my God and people.

With stories and insights,
Rabbi Twerski's new book Twerski on Machzor makes Rosh Hashanah prayers more meaningful. Click here to order...